


Family Matters

by ReGeNt1



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, God is a bit of a dick, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Michael is a Little Shit, More tags later, Past Abuse, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReGeNt1/pseuds/ReGeNt1
Summary: After the climatic battle within the LAPD, Lucifer and friends find themselves faced with the divine judgement of God. What with that, a brutal serial killer, the ever present threat of Michael, a spiraling Daniel, and a depressed and slightly homicidal demon, the Devil and the Detective really can't seem to catch a break, can they?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	1. Divine Intervention

“Children,” The Almighty said with a smile, “You know I hate it when you fight.” 

Lucifer was stunned. All he could do was stare. It had been a millennia since he had seen Dear Old Dad. He could still remember the Almighty’s face, contorted in fiery rage, ordering- no, demanding that he be cast down from the confines of the Silver City. That memory sparked a deep seated fear within him. He wanted to- no. No, no, no, no, no. You are not afraid of him. Not anymore. Just like that, all of the rage, the pain, the heartbreak, came flooding back. It was almost overwhelming. 

“Hello Dad!” Lucifer spat out, forcing himself to slip into that mask of nonchalance, despite the fact that he currently felt a rage so intense that it threatened to explode outwards, swallowing everything in everyone in it’s path. “So great to see you again! After, oh what’s it been? A millennia?” 

God halted at the bottom of the stares, smile dropping from his face, only to be replaced by a look of hurt. “You don’t seem to mean that Samael. I thought you’d be happy to see me after all these years.” 

Lucifer saw red. His devil face exploded outwards, his eyes burning with the metaphorical fires of Hell. The amount of rage present on his face alone would’ve likely terrified even the toughest Angel or Demon, and that very same rage would’ve likely caused him to do something very stupid, if not for the restraining arms of Amenadiel. 

“Luci stop!” Amenadiel practically shouted. “Think of Chloe, think of what might happen to her if you do this!” 

The thought stopped Lucifer in his tracks. Chloe. He had to protect Chloe. There’s not telling what He might do to her if he angered Him. Lucifer stopped struggling, allowing his devil face to slowly fade into nonexistence.

Amenadiel eased his grasp on Lucifer, quickly switching their positions so that he was now in front of Lucifer, ready to quickly restrain him if something set him off again. Amenadiels posture was straight, rigid, his head was bowed. 

“Father, it’s an honor to see you again.” Amenadiel said, voice devoid of any semblance of emotion. 

“Ah! Now that’s the response I was looking for!” The Almighty said cheerfully, clapping his hands together. The sound echoed across the soundless precinct. “Speaking of Chloe, how is my little Miracle doing?” Amenadiel knew Lucifer was going to say something that would’ve likely sent this whole situation spiraling completely out of control, so he quickly replied “She’s doing fine, Father. Thank you for asking.” 

“Good, good, good. That’s good. I’m glad shes doing fine.” God responded absently. 

“Why are you here, Father?” Lucifer said. His voice sounded defeated, subdued. Like all of his rage was gone, and all that was left was nothing. A hollow shell of an Angel. Lucifer wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted Chloe. He still remembered that wonderful night in his penthouse. That night had truly been the best night of his life, and considering how long his life was, that was saying something. During the course of that night, he felt loved. And he felt an overwhelming love for the Detective, his Detective, that he struggled to put into words. All of his problems, all of his worries, had melted away that night. But nothing lasts forever. And now, Dear Old Dad loomed over the trio of Angels, having likely thought up some sick, twisted game for them to play. 

“What? Oh!” The Almighty replied with a hearty chuckle that just sounded wrong, in a way that Lucifer struggled to describe. “Oh, I’m here because I think we need to have a little chat, the four of us. Call it divine intervention, if you will, but I personally think this particular chat has been long overdue.” 

God waved his all-powerful hand, and the trio of Angels found themselves in Lucifer’s penthouse, sitting shoulder to shoulder on his sofa, their wings tucked away. 

Normally Lucifer would’ve been indignant at this violation to his free will. After all, free will is the entire reason he was banished from the Silver City, was it not? But now, he just felt nothing. He wanted- no, needed to sleep. He felt a tiredness that threatened to swallow his entire being. He needed sleep, and he needed Chloe. Those were the only two things in the world that he needed at the moment. 

“Now!” The Almighty said, once again clapping His hands together. “Let me just say, I am disappointed in each and every one of you. Each and every one of you.” He emphasized, looking directly at Michael, who had wisely chosen to remain silent throughout this entire discussion. 

“Father-” Michael began, but God silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Shush now Michael. I will not listen to anything you have to say at this moment.” He said, any of the cheer and warmth he regarded Lucifer and Amenadiel with vanished from his face, replaced by an icy void that threatened to swallow anyone who gazed upon it for too long. 

“Anyway! As I was saying,” The Almighty continued, warmth and emotion returning to his face all too quickly, “I feel as if we need to have a chat. A family dinner, if you will. I’ve noticed some developments that have been, well, let’s just say, displeasing. And I wanted to catch up. I mean, it’s been awhile hasn’t it?” The Almighty laughed, as if this was funny. 

Amenadiel, while surprised at this family dinner announcement, was more concerned with Lucifer’s silence throughout this whole ordeal. He was fully expected Lucifer to be raging, rebelling, but Lucifer was silent. Lucifer’s silence was the loudest noise he’s heard in quite awhile. 

“Now, we won’t be having this chat here.” God said, “No, no, definitely not here. Let’s have it at, let’s say, Linda’s!” God exclaimed, eyes lighting up, as if he were a kid in a candy store. “Lets say, a week from today, at exactly 6:00pm.” The cheer dropped from God’s voice as he said “Make no mistake, all of you will be there, whether you want to be or not.” 

God eyed each of them sternly, before he broke out into a grin, and waved his hand. “Anyway, I really must be going. You know me, places to be right? Goodbye children!” And with that, he vanished with a flash of glorious divine light, leaving the three stunned Angels in silence.


	2. The Divine Tragedy

The silence in the penthouse was almost deafening. There, nestled quite uncomfortably on Lucifer’s high quality leather sofa, sat three of some of the most powerful beings in the universe. This sounded like the beginning of a terrible joke, or a great one, depending on who was listening. ‘The Devil and two Archangels, the Prince of Heaven and The Fist of God respectively, walk into a bar.” Something like that.

This idea greatly amused Lucifer. He took comfort in the fact that his mind was still able to supply him with ludicrously wonderful ideas. He also took comfort in the fact that he was still able to feel- something. Considering what he had just been through, comfort was something he desperately needed. But, considering the identities of the two beings currently occupying the spaces to the left and right of him respectively, comfort was not something he was likely to receive anytime soon. 

“Well,” Michael finally spoke up, his nasally American accent doing no favors for the eardrums of the two beings sitting to the left of him, “I think we can all agree on the fact that that went wonderfully.” 

Amenadiel replied with a noncommittal “Hmm.” Lucifer personally couldn’t bring himself to care less about anything the two beings currently residing in his penthouse were saying or doing. He was currently lost in thought, thinking about his wonderful Detective. Her beautiful blue eyes, hair, the comfort of her skin, the comfort of her very presence. Anything to distract him from Dad. She might be here soon, he thought absently. If the noises outside were anything to go by, Dear Old Dad had done them the huge favor of restarting time. 

Thanks Dad. You great big bag of dicks. 

Michael, who was currently glancing around the penthouse, somehow managing the impossible task of looking more bored than Lucifer whenever he had to sit through paperwork, got up and began to head for the bar. Something about “Needing a drink.” A drink sounded incredibly nice right now. But this sofa was nicer. Incredibly comfortable. Had it always been this comfortable? He couldn’t recall a time when he desired to just sink into the sofa and just- well, stop existing, if only temporarily. Well maybe he could. Uriel had been a pretty rough time for him. He couldn’t abandon the Detective, of course. She needed him, didn’t she? 

Linda would probably be incredibly worried, not to mention incredibly helpful right now. He would have to call her later, if he remembered. 

He glanced towards Amenadiel, who was currently sitting straight up, staring straight ahead with a distant look on his face. Like a rock with a stick up it’s ass, he thought with amusement. He briefly flicked his eyes towards Michael, who was in the process of pouring himself a nice big glass of Vodka. That monster. As if the turtle neck wasn’t bad enough. He couldn’t help but wonder what the self proclaimed ‘Mr. Bigger Plans’ was up to. Michael may be a lot of toxic, unsavory, deeply disgusting and repulsive things, but a complete imbecile wasn’t one of them. Unless he’d somehow managed to fly into a bridge during his short stint on Earth. He wouldn’t be surprised.

Surely Michael knew that Dad wouldn’t just ignore a giant Celestial Smack-down right in the middle of Los Angeles. I mean, that bridge theory was always plausible, but not even a bridge would dim Michael's somewhat impressive intellect that much. Would it? He had to have a reason. Why did he want Dad on Earth? Surely it wasn’t just to have a family reunion. Michael hated his family. So why did he-

Oh my Dad he was way too sober to be thinking about this. Why did he even care?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when a thud on the bar signaled that the biggest- sorry, the second biggest douche in all of Heaven, nay, the Universe was done with his glass of Vodka. That vile monster. And they called him the Devil. 

“Well,” Michael said, slowly meandering his way over to the balcony, glancing at Lucifer’s possessions with distaste, “This has been fun. I would love to stay and chat longer, but I’ve got to prepare for our little family dinner.” He paused for a moment, appearing thoughtful, before his face lit up in painfully false cheer, “Maybe I’ll see your snot nosed little brat, whats his name again? Chucky? There. I love that kid you know, Menykins?” 

“You will not be seeing my son, Mikey.” Amenadiel replied, without missing a beat. 

Michael contorted his face into a hideous imitation of sadness, “Mm. Such a shame.” He said, before he quickly unfolded his wings and vanished into thin air, a gust of wind and an empty Vodka glass being the only sign that he was ever there in the first place.

Lucifer heaved a tremendous sigh, as if the weight of the entire Universe lied solely on his shoulders. It certainly felt that way. 

“What an absolute dick.” 

“Yep.” 

“He’s up to something you know.” 

“Yep.” 

The two brothers sat there in silence for about a minute, taking a minuscule amount of comfort in each others presence. Lucifer would never admit this to Amenadiel, but he actually enjoyed his brothers presence. It was certainly leagues better than being at each others throats all the time. It almost felt similar to the Silver City, before everything went to shit, of course. The one thing he missed about the Silver City was the connection he had with his brothers and sisters, in the good old days. Before God and the Goddess had started fighting. Before his rebellion. They did everything together. Laughed, played, cried. Michael, being Michael, took pleasure in ruthlessly bullying and scaring the fledglings, but, what was that human phrase? Michael was the exception that proved the rule, if you will? 

Amenadiel suddenly looked as if he had remembered an incredibly important detail. 

“Linda and Charlie!” He practically shouted, quickly rising from the sofa. 

“Hmm?” Lucifer replied absently. 

“I’ve got to get back to Linda and Charlie! They’re probably worried sick.” 

Ah. So he had remembered an incredibly important detail. 

Amenadiel was already halfway to the balcony, wings out, when he suddenly stopped, and glanced back at Lucifer, face showing nothing but concern, “Will you be alright without me brother?” 

“What?” Lucifer replied, looking incredibly confused, before his expression shifted into what can only be described as indignant realization. “Bloody hell, of course I’ll be fine without you! I’m not a bloody child!” 

That got a slight smile from Amenadiel, “Whatever you say, brother.” 

Amenadiel turned, once again ready to depart, before he stopped again, and turned to face Lucifer. Again. “You should come with, Luci. I’m sure Chloe’s worried sick about you.” 

That, in turn, got a faint smile from Lucifer. “Don’t worry brother, something tells me the Detective is on her way as we speak.” Amenadiel looked as if he was going to reply, but before he could, Lucifer added, “We wouldn’t want to keep the good doctor and baby Charlie waiting, now would we? Go on now brother, I’ll be fine, you’ve my word.” 

Amenadiel looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he evidently decided not to. With one final glance at Lucifer, he turned and vanished with a beat of his wings, and a gust of wind. 

Lucifer, now completely alone, temporarily at least, sighed once again. Bloody hell this sofa was comfortable. It hadn’t always been this comfortable. There’s no way it had. The Detective would be here soon, he thought. He had probably worried her. Well, not probably worried her. He had definitely worried her. He hoped she would forgive him. He hadn’t meant to. His eyes felt incredibly heavy. 

He realized, with some faint undefinable emotion that he would likely be asleep long before the Detective arrived. He hoped she would forgive him for that as well. 

The last person that entered his mind before sleep completely overtook him, was Chloe. 

He dreamt of Chloe, he dreamt of stars, they were one in the same, really. 

He didn’t sleep for long though.

-

Chloe Decker was confused. Not half a second ago, Lucifer Morningstar, the love of her life, who just so happened to be the literal Devil, was on the cusp of saying those three very little, yet devastatingly important words. And now, he was just gone.

Was just, vanishing something he could do? She hadn’t even seen wings. 

Chloe was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of- glass? 

On instinct, her hands flew to her weapon, not quite unholstering it just yet, but it made her feel significantly better to know she could in less than a second if a threat presented itself. It was funny to think that about 9 months ago, she would’ve laughed at the idea of an actual, serious, life threatening threat in the middle of the LAPD. Not that it was completely impossible for some gun toting psychopath to somehow find his way into the middle of the heavily armed precinct, it was just highly unlikely. 

But she was now living in a reality where Angels and Demons were real, and the love of her life was the actual, biblical Devil. And she was friends with both a Demon, and an Angel. It still caught up with her sometimes, when she least expected it usually. The point being, that could be God out there for all she knew. That was her reality. 

She put her hand on the doorknob, stopping to listen again before she opened it, much to her relief, all she heard was the sound of multiple confused cops. Which made sense, from the sound of it, the glass had just seemingly exploded for no identifiable reason. But the glass was actually the least of her concerns right now. 

“Lucifer?” She called out, pushing the door open. Upon a quick assessment of the room, it was, well, exactly like she pictured it. A thick pane of glass really had just exploded, covering most of the precinct in shards of glass. 

What the hell? 

If she had to guess, and she did, she was almost 100% certain Lucifer had something to do with this. Her concern amplified a dozen fold, she started walking forward, her eyes quickly scanning the precinct, looking for any sign of Lucifer. She found no such sign, not that she was really expecting too. She was hoping too, but then hoping and expecting were two different things, weren’t they? 

“Has anyone seen Lucifer?” She called out again. 

An older officer, right on the verge of retirement actually, by the name of Robert Garrison, who was currently staring down at the glass with a mixture of astonishment, surprise, and fear, addressed her without taking his eyes off of the glass, “Thought he was with you.” 

“He was.” She replied absently, once again scanning the precinct for Lucifer, or anyone familiar. Her eyes landed on Maze.

Before Garrison could reply, she was already making her way over to the demon, who was currently leaning against a desk, looking exhausted. She looked like she’d just gotten out of a fistfight with someone. Her hair was messed up, she was sweating, she looked hurt, not to mention angry. To be fair, the angry part was typical for Maze. The fistfight would explain the glass, but where was the other guy? And none of the officers seemed to be treating her with any level of hostility, so the fistfight theory was a no go unless-

Something Celestial had gone down here. 

Maze saw Chloe coming of course, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she could swear Maze almost looked, guilty? 

Strange. Something was definitely wrong.

“Before you ask Decker, I haven’t seen Lucifer.” Maze said, by way of greeting apparently. 

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Lucifer? Are you alright? What the hell happened here?” She replied, gesticulating wildly to, well, the entire precinct. 

The expression of guilt Maze was currently wearing only increased. “I’m fine Decker. And I mean what I said, I haven’t seen him. Not since, well.” She paused, looking unsure of what to say next. This was worrying, not to mention suspicious. Maze was the type of person to say what she wanted, when she wanted, and if anyone dared to openly disagree with her, chances were she’d punch them at the very least. Excluding tribe members. Maybe. 

“Since what Maze? What happened?” She repeated, beginning to grow impatient. 

Maze opened and closed her mouth a few times, before looking away and deciding to stare at the ground, looking for all the world like she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. 

“Maze!” What happened?” She snapped, frustration finally getting the better of her. 

Maze’s suddenly hardened, her guilt vanishing behind a mask of anger and cold indifference. “Nothing that concerns you Decker.” She replied casually, sounding almost completely apathetic to the entire ordeal now. Maze pushed off the desk and quickly skated around Chloe, making for the stairs, glass crunching under her boots. 

“Nothing that concern m- What? Where are you going? Aren’t you going to help me find Lucifer?” 

“Nope! Not my problem anymore Decker,” Maze called out, already halfway up the stairs. “Try his penthouse, if he’s not there, then there’s not much you can do for him.” 

Chloe wanted to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but Maze promptly vanished around the corner of the stairwell

Great. 

If she wasn’t mistaken, Chloe could’ve sworn she heard a cruel satisfaction in Maze’s words, almost like she was hoping he had just completely vanished off the face of the Earth. Or died. 

Well. Something had definitely happened between the two of them. Nonetheless, Maze had given her a lead of sorts. Lux. 

Chloe decided to ignore the voice in the back of her head that was currently screaming at her, ‘What if he’s not at Lux, what if he’s dead? What if he’s back in Hell?” Because just no, he wasn’t dead, he wasn’t in Hell. He would be at Lux. And if he wasn’t, well, she would figure something out, or she would die trying. She wasn’t going to let him leave her.

Not again. 

-

The drive to Lux isn’t exactly short, but it isn’t exactly long either. 10 to 20 minutes, depending on traffic. But, the drive was made considerably shorter by the fact that Chloe was driving like a certified mad woman. She also took it upon herself to drive with her siren on, but hey, this was an emergency wasn’t it? 

She arrived at Lux in record time. She was thankful for the fact that night hadn’t fallen yet, otherwise the building would’ve been crammed full of people eager to fulfill their every desire. She parked as close to the entrance as she could get, not exactly caring what may or may not happen to her car at the moment. She practically flew out the door, her legs quickly carrying her to the entrance. The bouncer, who knew her on sight, (all of them did, unsurprisingly,) quickly moved out of the way, looking slightly fearful if she wasn’t mistaken. 

The doors to the nightclub flew open, earning her a few curious glances from the staff. A quick assessment of the room told her all she needed to know: Lucifer wasn’t downstairs, not that she really expected him to be. He had no reason to be downstairs in the middle of the afternoon. The only people present downstairs were the staff, who were currently rushing around making sure everything was in tiptop order for the no doubt busy night that was sure to come.

Her next stop was the penthouse. And if he wasn’t there- 

No. He would be there, she told herself. He would be there. It felt strangely like denial. 

She practically flew to the elevator, mashing the call button with an almost fevered ferocity. The elevator clearly wasn’t in as much of a hurry as she was. The doors opened, she stepped in, and started frantically mashing the button for the penthouse. The doors closed, and she was briefly left with her thoughts. 

What- no. No, she was not thinking about this. If he wasn’t there, she would go to Amenadiel for help, she would convince Maze to help, she would do something. She certainly wouldn’t stand idly by. Not again. 

Not again. 

She unholstered her gun. Lucifer would never just, vanish like that. Not without a goodbye, or a the very least an explanation. So it stands to reason something either took him, or there was an emergency. Neither sounded good per say, but they were the two most likely scenarios. 

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and she stepped out slowly. The penthouse, which normally felt so warm and inviting, was now practically radiating dread. 

“Lucifer?” She called out warily. Something powerful enough to potentially take the Devil himself was not something she wanted to mess with, or even see, but she told herself she wasn’t going to stand idly by again, and she was going to hold herself to that. 

Not hearing a response, she called out again, “Lucifer?” Louder this time. 

A groan from the sofa followed by a murmured “Detective?” Caught her attention. The distinctive British accent was instantly recognizable, and the surge of relief she felt was overwhelming. 

Her feet carried her to the brown leather sofa faster than she thought possible, and she was greeted with a less pristine than usual, yet no less handsome, Lucifer.   
His usually immaculate hair was in shambles, and he, like Maze, looked like he had just gotten out of a fight with somebody. Not to mention the deep exhaustion he was clearly trying to hide. 

“Lucifer!” She cried, practically jumping into his evidently surprised arms, enfolding him in a somewhat awkward hug. “Are you alright? What happened? I thought you’d left, or you’d been kidnapped or something. Were you kidnapped?” She asked, her voice laced with worry. She couldn’t help but notice how tense he was. He was always tense when it came to hugs, but this was a bit much even for him. It was almost comparable to hugging stone. 

His body grew even more tense. 

“I’m fine Detective,” He said, his voice full of groggy, false cheer. “And as for what happened, well, it’s a bit of a long story really. I suppose kidnapping could be the proper term for it, now that I think about it.” 

That was concerning. She felt the first traces of fear stir somewhere deep inside of her. Traces which she quickly tampered. He was here now. That’s all that mattered. Nothing would take him from her against his will. She wouldn’t let them. 

It felt so good to just be near him again. His body was like a fire, radiating a heat and warmth that seeped into her very soul. He always did have a comforting presence. Even from the very beginning. 

Chloe moved to extricate herself from this more than somewhat uncomfortable hug. Not that she didn’t enjoy hugging Lucifer of course, she could hug him until the world ended if she was being perfectly honest, it’s just that the positioning of that particular hug was slightly uncomfortable, for the both of them she was sure. She planted herself on his right side, careful not to leave any space between them unfilled. 

A quick glance told her all she needed to know: He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. His mask of false cheer looked brittle, his smile appeared thin, he looked like he was on the verge of breaking. Her heart broke for him. 

She knew he wouldn’t talk unless he truly desired too. He was stubborn like that, she thought, feeling a faint trace of fondness and a mild exasperation. Always refusing to open up to anyone, always pretending everything was fine. Nonetheless, she would be there for him in whatever capacity she possibly could until he was ready to talk about it. 

“Lucifer, I know your not fine.” She began, reaching out and gently touching his hand. Before he could say anything, she continued. “I don’t know what happened to you, but I know your not ready to talk about it. I just want you to know, if you don’t already, that whenever your ready to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’ll listen. I always will.” 

Lucifer inhaled shakily, looking anywhere but at her. He maneuvered his hand to where their palms where now touching. She couldn’t help but notice that his hands were as warm as his body. 

He was staring at the floor now, his eyes watering slightly. He inhaled one more time before he spoke, his voice shaky. “I want to tell you, Detective.” 

She smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand. “Take your time Lucifer. I’ll listen for as long as you talk.”   
He exhaled shakily, his lips quirking into a humorless laugh. His features morphed into an impassive, emotionless mask, but his eyes, his eyes told her everything she needed to know. His eyes spoke of an ageless sadness, a grudge that stretched beyond time itself. A pain that she couldn’t begin to comprehend, a hopelessness. 

It killed her to see him like this. She wished she could make it all go away. She knew hoping that she could was pointless. It would take more than just her to alleviate that pain. 

That wouldn’t stop her from trying though. 

“Well,” He began with another humorless chuckle. “Long story short, Michael showed up. He manipulated Amenadiel into completely stopping time, and then we fought. Oh! And Maze betrayed me again. Big surprise there. We were on the verge of winning, and then..” He paused, seemingly unable to go on. His body was rigid, and he was still glaring at the floor like it had personally offended him. 

She smiled and squeezed his hand reassuringly, silently urging him to continue at his own pace. She was still digesting all of that information. Michael had showed up, of course. That dick couldn’t seem to leave them alone. She hated him. With a passion. Maze had betrayed them? The thought stung slightly. The guilt on her face made much more sense now. Why would she do that? She thought they were friends. She could feel the first faint traces of anger. Why would Maze do that? And Amenadiel had done what now? She didn’t know he could stop time. That was- cool. She quickly stored that information for later, before she could become fixated on it. The picture was getting clearer and clearer.

“And then, well,” He paused and laughed again. She doubted he even realized. His laugh sounded utterly broken and defeated. “Dad showed up.” 

Dad showed up.

Dad showed up.

He was the Devil. 

So that meant his Dad was- 

God. 

God Himself had appeared in the LAPD. 

She had occupied the same room the Creator of The Universe, Heaven, Hell, Her, Lucifer, Amenadiel, everything that currently existed anywhere had technically chronologically just vacated. 

She was still occupying the same room that the Creator of The Universe, Heaven, Hell, Her, Lucifer, Amenadiel, everything that currently and didn’t currently exist anywhere had just vacated. 

God was the biggest asshole in the entire Universe. 

God was abusive.

Holy shi-

“Detective? Are you quite alright? Oh dear, please tell me I didn’t break you.” She was pulled from her thoughts by the voice of Lucifer, who was currently staring at her, looking as concerned as he looked for, well, only her actually. 

She shook her head and cleared her throat, forcing herself to think about anything except for G- Lucifer’s Dick of A Father. 

“Yes, yep. Mhm. I’m fine. It’s just, your Father. Who is God. The Creator of The Universe. Was here. In this room.” She practically squeaked out, gesturing wildly, her voice sounding slightly manic.

Lucifer’s face instantly hardened, his features changing from concern into downright pain, and anger. His eyes went from her to the floor once again. “Yes, God Almighty. The worlds original absentee Father. My Father, Who Aren’t In Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name.” His hands were up in mock prayer, and his voice was practically dripping with sarcasm, and he was once again glaring at the floor with such intensity that she honestly wouldn’t be surprised if a demon or two down their suddenly felt like they were being watched. 

Hearing Lucifer speak about his Father with an almost palpable disdain once again reminded her that God was a dick. If God wasn’t God, therefore completely invincible and above any known law that has ever been and will ever be created, He would currently be rotting in a jail cell. And like that, she went from being in a strange state of awe at this almost incomprehensibly powerful being, to wishing He was here right now, so she could shoot Him. Not that it would do any good, but it would certainly make her feel better. 

While she was still lost in thought, Lucifer suddenly shot up from the sofa and began pacing, running his hands through his hair. 

“Yes, Dear Old Dad just pops in, snaps his fingers, gives us an order, and we all listen like obedient little soldiers! I just let him walk all over me, again!” Lucifer was basically shouting now, still pacing furiously. She knew he would never hurt her, but she was worried he was going to do something rash if he didn’t calm down soon. 

“Lucifer.” She called out, but he didn’t hear her. He was trapped in his own head, his anger seeming to increase by the second. He laughed again, his repressed fury boiling over. 

“I was lying to myself, yes. We both knew Dad would never hurt one of his precious little humans! His precious little toys! Especially not a Miracle.” The Devil was still shouting, his each and every word laced with utter hatred and disdain. And this was the Devil, she thought, not Lucifer Morningstar, the playboy billionaire who loved Cool Ranch Puffs and looked at her like she hung the stars. The Devil, with a grudge older than time, and an eternal, endless hatred for his Father. 

“Yes, I was a coward! A scared little fledgling, too afraid to stand up for himself, lest he be punished!”

Lucifer was clearly just getting started. The manic look in his eyes only seemed to increase. He was lost in his own self hatred for being unable to stand up for himself, for being too ‘weak’ as he would put it. She knew she had to do something. An angry Lucifer was a rash Lucifer, therefore prone to shockingly bad decisions. 

She slowly got up from the sofa. Her heart was beating faster than she would care to admit. “Lucifer, you need to calm down.” She enunciated gently, doing her best not to startle him in any way. 

Lucifer didn’t hear her. He was drowning in the red oceans of his repressed rage, the dark, endless abyss that was his self hatred snagging it’s dark claws around his entire being. He didn’t even notice that his eyes were aflame with the unforgiving fires of Hell. His Devil Face was beginning to manifest, leaving his skin red, cracked, and charred. 

He wasn’t moving now, just the opposite actually. He’d traded out the inability to sit still for an almost inhuman stillness. An inhuman growl seem to manifest not from him, but from the very air in the room. The dread was almost palpable, and in that moment, he seemed every bit the Devil kids were checking under their bed for. 

Chloe calmed her very ruffled nerves, and reminded herself that this was Lucifer. This wasn’t some horror movie villain that had shot out of the floor accompanied by hellfire, blood, and trumpets that warned humanity of it’s imminent doom. This was Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar. 

With that in mind, she took a single step forward, and as gently as she possibly could, called out his name, “Lucifer?” 

No response. The dread in the room only seemed to be increasing. 

“Lucifer?” She called out again, slightly louder. 

Faster than she could comprehend, he waltzed around, his inflamed eyes locked on to her, and for a single moment, he looked at her as if she were a nuisance that had to be eliminated, a pest that he had to obliterate for daring to interrupt him. His teeth were bared in a snarl, and his eyes held enough rage to melt glaciers. 

On instinct, she flinched. She didn’t dare take a step back though, as she had no doubt that would put a huge dent in the relationship they’d worked so hard to cultivate. 

Recognition filtered into Lucifer’s reddened eyes, and he shot back as if he’d been slapped, his Devil Face fading into nonexistence. 

He landed on his pristine floor and scrambled backwards until his back was pressed against the edge of the sofa. 

He was breathing heavily, his eyes appeared to be watering. 

“I’m sorry,” He choked out, the tears almost overflowing now. “I could have hurt you.” He was practically hyperventilating now. 

Her legs carried her forward, and before she even realized what was happening, she was cupping Lucifer’s face in her hands.

“Shh.” She said gently. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. “

“I-” He began, but she knew what he was about to say. “You wouldn’t hurt me Lucifer. We both know that. Please don’t apologize.” 

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, tears openly streaming down his face now. 

Not knowing what else to do, she slowly and gently put his arms around him. He didn’t even tense up.

There, on the pristine floors of the penthouse, the Devil cried in her arms. 

-

Mazikeen Smith was angry. Of course, that was practically her default state of being, anger. But she was angry for an abnormal reason, by her standards at least. She was feeling a strange new emotion. Ever since she had seen Chloe Decker’s face, completely open and trusting, despite the fact that she was a Demon from the bowels of Hell, she had felt a strange new emotion, like there was a strange force squeezing her heart.

Guilt.

That made her angry. 

She was not guilty. 

Demons didn’t feel anything. 

And that was all she was, right? Just another disposable Demon. 

Whatever. Now wasn’t the time to concentrate on such trivial things. She had to find that backstabbing, lying, two faced bastard Michael. He owed her a soul, after all. 

The only problem is that tracking down a Celestial Being like Michael is quite annoying. It would’ve been impossible, had he been in the Silver City, or even Hell. But he wasn’t. He was still in Los Angeles. She could feel him. 

As soon as she’d left the LAPD, she felt him. However, as soon as she got even remotely close to the ‘signal,’ it would shift, forcing her to change directions. 

It was annoying. For the past five hours, she’s been on what essentially equated to a wild goose chase. She knew Michael knew she was looking for him. He was playing with her, which only served to further piss her off. She was so going to tear him apart when she found him. She hated being toyed with, unless it was fun. This wasn’t fun. This was tedious. 

She was drawing closer to the signal once again. Unlike the previous 10 times, it didn’t shift. He was at the docks, and he was staying there. 

She pulled her bike to a stop in a heavily shadowed area, flipped the kickstand, and swung her legs over the saddle.   
She was angry, she wanted to hurt something. This was going to be fun. 

For a Demon like her, hopping the fence was easy. Hell-Forged Blades in hand, she was like a shadow. She moved through the shadows, on the off-chance that any humans were actually there. She quickly scoped out the entirety of the Docks, checking around shipping containers, on top of shipping containers, all of that. No sign of Michael. She doubted he was actually in a shipping container. Although she supposed that would match with his cowardly nature. 

It would be very helpful if this ‘Celestial Tracking Device’ she was born with told her more than just the broad location of her target. 

She was just about to explode in frustration, when she suddenly heard a gust of wind and the sound of something landing on the shipping container behind her. 

On instinct, she whipped around and lobbed one of her Hell-Forged Daggers towards the noise.

She saw a shadowy, winged figure whip out it’s left hand and catch the dagger, just inches from it’s face. 

It twisted the dagger around in it’s hand, seemingly inspecting it, before carelessly throwing the weapon down, with a loud clang. 

Michael stepped into the light, a sick grin on his scarred face. 

“Hello Miss Mazikeen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. To anyone reading this, I hope you all had a happy holidays. And I hope you all have a wonderful new years. Dad knows we've been wanting 2020 to be over for awhile now, so. Yay?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this. Sorry it took so long. I will actually endeavor to respond to any comments I may get this time. 
> 
> Happy Early New Years Eve!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this, this is just something I wrote for fun. I do plan to continue this, and I do have the story kind of outlined. Despite that, updates probably won't be very frequent, and I'm sorry for that. I will try to get the next chapter out relative quickly though. Have a good day/night, whoever's reading this.


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